Dave and I take our time stripping the cage fighter - first we unzip his jacket, to enjoy his firm nipples, before removing his tracksuit bottoms and taking a long sniff of the masculine scent emanating from his shorts. Finally, we yank John's shorts down and greedily inhale the intoxicating scent of his sweaty arse and genitals. I can't resist a taste, so I push my head between his cheeks and rim him, tasting the musky tang of his freshly exercised arsehole and hairy crack.